His Pain, Her Love
by periodi-scuri
Summary: Hermione, Harry, Percy, and the Twins. Those are the characters... That's all I can really think of saying... For now. There may be more than that later.
1. Default Chapter

  
  
Prologue:

It was over. The war was done. And now he was alone. Alone and more than willing to join those who had gone before him. As he stood over his grave, Harry silently counted them up. Neville, Ron, Bill, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Charlie, Luna Lovegood, Dumbledore, and Ginny. Ginny... the one person he'd trusted with his darkest dreams and desires. The one woman he'd ever love. Dead. All of them, dead. He didn't know who by, but he was going to find out. Harry swore that to himself as he shifted his grip on the book that had been left on his doorstep the night before. _The Wizard's Guide to the Dark Arts._  
  
This was going to be hard. It wasn't ever going to be easy, it never had been. Then again, was anything ever easy? No... No, nothing was ever easy. And it was that way for a reason. Heaving a sigh, Harry smiled faintly at the grave sites, then, kneeling over Ginny's he pressed his fingers to his lips before gently pressing his fingers to the head stone reading "Beloved Daughter and Sister; In Our Hearts She Stays." Beneath the engraved words was a picture of an angel soaring above clouds with the sun shining brightly behind her. To Harry's eyes, the angle was a red-head, beautiful. What he didn't know, or realize at that moment was that that very image would haunt his dreams for years to come.  
  
Chapter One: The Resistance  
  
"No, no, no!" Percy Weasley yelled at the top of his lungs, glaring at his two remaining siblings. Fred shifted uneasily and frowned at his brother. "Why not? It's ridiculous, Perce." He mumbled, arching an eyebrow. "Yeah," George bumped in. "This is stupid, all we do is sit here and wait for news." Percy was ready to explode.  
  
They didn't understand, probably never would, that their lives were at stake. The last of the Weasleys. They had to stay together; they couldn't risk loosing each other like they'd lost the rest. At that moment, the door flew open and Hermione strode in, cheeks pink from the cold, eyes bright with either excitement or worry, Percy didn't know. "'Mione, What's wrong?" standing quickly, Percy, frowned and tilted his head. This wasn't a surprise, Hermione bursting in like this. She'd been almost a constant in the Weasley household since... Since everything had happened over three years ago. And now it was starting again. "An-Another attack." She breathed as Fred immediately grabbed a chair for her and George took her cloak.  
  
A member of the Ministry, Hermione knew about almost everything that went on in the Wizarding world. "Another pure blood family... And again with the green cloth. None of us get us. Dean's just as confused as I am. We're looking at the Malfoys because so far, they haven't been attacked." "Why does this not surprise me?" Percy muttered, rubbing a hand over his face tiredly.

The attacks had been going on for the last year, and as hard as he might try, he had no idea how to stop them. And as the newest and youngest Minister, Percy was highly perturbed. This was his area he should know what to do. Fred interrupted his thoughts. "What's with the green cloth?" he asked curiously, sitting down slowly and kicking the chair back on two legs. As half-owner to Weasley Wizard Wheezes, he knew a lot about practical jokes and the things involved to make them. But these were deaths. Murders really. With a puzzled grunt, he looked towards George who was sitting on the counter, swinging his legs boredly. "I dunno, Fred. Beats the devil outta me really. What I really don't get is why it's pure bloods this time around." George said, shrugging his shoulders slightly. "It's completely reverse. Purebloods, staying hidden from the people's knowledge. We don't even have a name on it. Nothing." He says quietly.  
  
And that's how they stayed. Hermione staring down at the cup of tea George had presented to her as she sat. Percy staring blankly out a window at the snow as it swirled around in the wind, his mind on his wife and son tucked up in France. Fred and George silently, conversing through eye contact. No one moved or talked for a while. Then, Hermione stood then smiled faintly and looked at all of them. "I'm going to go lay down, guys, wake me up if you need me," She said softly before walking out of the room and sluggishly making her way up the narrow staircase that led to the bedrooms.  
  
Once at the landing, she immediately made her way towards Ron's room. Out of instinct perhaps, she braced herself for the bright orange of the room. Nothing had changed since she'd first seen it... And if she was right... Hermione carefully pulled back the bed cloths of the bed and blinked back tears. Still there, but darkened with time... She didn't bother to go back downstairs and ask the three Weasleys why no one had changed the room, or the sheets.  
  
Thankful that they hadn't, she pulled out her wand, muttered a cutting spell then ran the tip on the wand around a section of the sheet. Then, once the piece was detached from the rest of the bedding, she carefully picked it up, folded it and tucked it neatly into her purse. As her eyes welled with tears, Hermione kicked out of her shoes and lay down on the bed, drawing her knees to her chest, blocking out the memories of the last time she'd lain here.  
  
_They'd been seventeen and stupid. Hormones were running high. But neither cared that they could get caught at any time. They'd fallen into the bed, clutching at each other as if that was the only thing keeping them from flying to pieces. As Ron yanked back the blankets, Hermione tugged and yanked at his shirt until it was off, then, she tossed it to the floor and sealed her mouth to his. Meanwhile, Ron's hands worked them under her shirt and were slowly working their way up her shirt. In moments, both of them were undressed, sweating and gasping for air. As Ron pressed his forehead to hers, Hermione stared up at him, brown eyes wide as she watched his face. Then, the pain, sharp, quick and then nothing but Ron. Then all she saw was Ron's face, all she heard was his voice, telling her he loved her, how beautiful she was, how he would always take care of her...  
_  
Hermione woke with a start, tears slipping from her eyes and drenching the pillow as she stared up at the ceiling. Suddenly, the feeling of hatred and pain overwhelmed her and she sat up slowly, looked around the room then stood, grabbed her purse and started down stairs quickly. "George! Fred!" she shrieked, coming to a stop in the living room. She stood there and waited for them to turn. When they did, she tilted her head. "We're going to need more than just Ministry help if we're going to do this. We need the help of everyone." Fred and George were speechless. Then, as if something had clicked in their brains, the nodded and immediately disappeared. Then she turned to Percy. "This can't get out at the Ministry." At Percy's nod, she smiled faintly then disappeared back to her own apartment in London.


	2. The Past

A/N and Other Shtuff: Alright, basically, this is the chapter where I've decided to sort of reveal whom the murderer is. You also get a peek into the last two years of school for the Golden Trio and the others. There are hints to some HG/DM, and HG/RW. Nothing too big yet, still kind of debating what to do with the twins and Perce, pretty much just back ground information here. **TAKE NOTE: If you aren't allowed to watch "R" rated movies, turn back NOW!  
**  
Disclaimer: I own nothing Harry Potter. All rights to these characters and other things are reserved for J.K. Rowling. No matter how much I want to own everything. However, there are a few of my own characters.  
  
A Field in England  
  
Having barely broken a sweat, a cloaked figure stood over the lifeless body of a dark haired man. Then, kneeling, he pulled a piece of green silk from his pocket and placed it over the man's heart, pinning it in place with a small needle. As he admired his handy work, he smiled, stood and flipped the hood of the cloak back to his shoulders.  
  
Emerald green eyes glinted in the moon light, black as death hair stood on end from having been tousled by the hood. As he stepped back, he smirked to himself before turning away and Apparating. That was, perhaps, one of the easiest kills he'd made in a year. If he had to admit it, he was quite pleased with himself on several accounts.  
  
Back at the Ministry  
  
Hermione sat at her desk, quill tapping idly at the wood, eyes glazed and out of focus with thought. This was supposed to have been her lunch break, but she was skipping it to finish the revision to the newest set of information from the murder cases. Level Five was extremely quite today, something that was rare. But she was reveling in it; the silence. The peace. The moderately sane, uneventful time to herself she'd missed in the last two years.  
  
She had moved rather quickly after her last year at Hogwarts. Going immediately from the school to the training program for Aurors, from there, Hermione had gone from trainee to expert. It had helped that she had read every one of the hand-books and all of the material faster than anyone else had. But nothing had prepared her for the murders. For a little more than a year they'd been battling the unseen force that was killing off entire families. For a little more than a year, they at the Ministry had worked 24/7 to keep another murder from happening. But nothing had helped. To no avail, they'd failed. Time and time again, the murderer would slip through their fingers.  
  
There were, of course, several theories as to who the culprit was. The Malfoy's were, of course, most everyone's top choice. The green silk, a Slytherin color, being able to practically disappear from the face of the planet (something that, in the minds of the others, was something only Dark Magic was capable of doing), the game of cat and mouse... A game Hermione was well acquainted with. That was beside the point, really though... This had to be fixed. But as she sat back in her desk chair, Hermione let her mind wander back to her last few years at Hogwarts.  
  
Their sixth year, Harry had defeated Voldemort, nearly loosing his life in the process, unfortunately, that was the year they lost their headmaster as well. The next year, their seventh and last year, the last remaining Death Eaters had risen and had broken into Hogowarts and other safe places, killing everyone and everything in sight. Hermione shivered at the memory.  
  
-----  
  
_Bodies lay strewn in the halls, in classrooms, common rooms, the Great Hall, on the front steps, the grounds... Everywhere. Hermione clung to Harry's arm as they stood, staring around, then gradually, survivors began to trickle like dripping water from the castle. No one spoke as they stood, shocked and stunned into silence by the carnage. Three Professors remained. Professor Snape, the newest Defense Against the Dark Arts Profess or, Professor Calder, and Hagrid. She and Harry immediately went in search for their friends. The first they found was Neville. Then Luna, then Ron. At the sight of Ron's still and lifeless body, Hermione screamed, dropped to her knees and began sobbing. Harry hadn't bothered to try and calm her. She discovered later that it was because he'd spotted Ginny's body only a few feet away, draped over the Main Stairs like a grotesque rug. They were to find out later that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were found at their home, killed in much the same fashion as the students and professors at Hogwarts. She and Harry had stayed as long as the last day of school, the day of the burials, then they left, taking separate paths. She went on to burry herself in work for the Ministry. He had said he was off to travel, to get his mind off everything. From there, they had lost touch._  
  
-----

And now, now she had to wonder where he was, if he was alright. All the things any normal best friend would be thinking. In three years, nothing. Not an owl, nothing.  
  
As a magical voice interrupted her thoughts, she jumped, practically falling from her chair. Then she calmed, realizing that it was the secretary that was stationed in the middle of the large ante-chamber that connected her office with five others. "Ms Granger, your two o'clock is here." The scratchy, bored voice said before leaving. Two o'clock... Shit. Who was...? Oh... Draco Malfoy. As she stared at the small calendar, she made a face. Great. Why couldn't he have died like the rest of them? With a nearly inaudible groan, she waved her wand at the door, making it spring open just as the tall figure was approaching.  
  
The fifteen or so steps it took to get from the front desk to her office gave Hermione time to look at the boy she hadn't seen in three years. Except... he wasn't exactly a boy any longer.


	3. Admissions and Other Things

A/N: Alright, this one is going to be moderately longer. I hope. Thoughts are going to be in italics. If I spell 'magic' wrong ('magick'), Don't bite my head off, it's habit. Erm… Due to references to teen pregnancy and the language; This chapter is defiantly an "R" rated chapter. Also, I still can't get the editing thing to work out right. If anyone has any suggestions, I'd be grateful because the editing thing shows the story as being fixed, but I post it and it comes up screwed up again.

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to HP, all rights to that and other things belong to J.K. Rowling. Except for a few of my own charries and other ideas.

Chapter Three: Admissions and Other Things.

Boy, hell, the man standing in her doorway was anything but. He had become more broad shouldered; he was taller, less pale. Gray eyes seemed, if anything, more vibrant and alive. Dear Gods, he actually looked _good!_ The pathetically pale, pinched and arrogant seventeen year old had been replaced by a sleek, sophisticated, and… Built twenty year old. She could tell, even through the robes and muggle-type clothing, that he was muscled, probably from years of Quidditch and exercising.

"Hello, Granger." Came the smooth, cool greeting, the greeting disrupted Hermione from her thoughts.

She lifted her chin a notch before answering him. "Mr. Malfoy. Take a seat and we can get started." Hermione waved an absent hand at the seat in front of her desk as she quickly charmed a quill and a few pieces of parchment to record the meeting.

Draco sat, stunned at the witch seated in front of him. This wasn't the girl he had last seen at Hogwarts. That girl had been pale, disheveled, and withdrawn. Her hair, which had grown longer and smooth while they had been at school, had been frizzy and had stuck up at odd angles during their graduating ceremony. This was no longer the know-it-all girl from his school days. This was a woman. One who knew what she was doing and wasn't going to put up with any bullshit from any one. Not even the infamous Draco Malfoy. The last of the Great Malfoy Line. '_Enough of this, Malfoy, you have business to attend to.' _He thought to himself before arching an eyebrow and turning his attention to the matter at hand.

"I would like to know why my home is being raided by Aurors and Ministry officials, Ms. Granger. I have done nothing to deserve the attention of either group." Draco began slowly, leaning back in the cushy leather chair. Gray eyes bore into chocolate ones, challenging, demanding.

Hermione wasn't fazed, she simply crossed her legs, propped her chin in her cupped hand and looked him over serenely. Harry might have trusted him the last two years of their schooling, but she still had an issue with the man who had called her obscenities all throughout her school career. "As you well know, _Mister _Malfoy, there have been attacks and murders of purebloods in the past year. The culprit behind the attacks has slipped through our fingers more than once. We've come to the conclusion that Dark Magick is involved, and since you are the last one to really have any _useful_ knowledge of it, we are just taking precautionary measures." She spoke slowly, as if speaking to a child. "I don't see why it is such a big deal. If you have nothing to hide, Mr. Malfoy, it should not bother you."

"No!" he exploded, "What bothers me is that even after I helped you and your _Glory Gang _defeat that bastard who dared to call himself 'Lord' anything, I'm still being patronized for the deeds of my demonic father!" Draco snapped in return, gray eyes turning to points of ice. He shook peroxide-blonde hair from his eyes before continuing. "I would never _ever_ attack anyone. Especially not purebloods. For the love of the Gods, Granger, you think that after what happened to Ginny—"

She cut him off there, slamming her small fist onto the table. "Don't you ever say her name again, Malfoy! How _dare_ you talk about Ginny Weasley as though you knew her! You knew nothing, and you know nothing!" Hermione practically yelled, leaning forward to glare at him. "You _are_ nothing. Nothing more than a mass of scum. Scum from the fucking substructure of Voldemort's grave" She hissed softly.

Draco stared at her for a moment before tilting his head slowly. "I knew her. Better than you, better than her brothers. Even better than Potter did. She was supposed to tell Potter that day that it was over. Ginny and I had been seeing each other for a little over a year. She was pregnant. Or did they not tell you that in your God-forsaken reports?" he hissed softly, his eyes never leaving hers. "Pregnant with my child. The Malfoy heir. And she died. They both did. All no thanks to you and your pathetic Potter. He who had sworn to protect her with his life, and you who was suppose to help. You were off celebrating in Hogsmead when they were killed. Had I been able, I would have died in her place. As it was, I was locked in my father's dungeons for disobeying his orders and taking Potter to him."

The room grew still as he finished. Hermione sat in shock, her eyes wide. Ginny Weasley, pregnant? At sixteen? With Draco Malfoy's baby? This was too much. Information overload. One of her best friends had been a statistic. The girl would have graduated with she, Ron, Harry and the others had she survived. Her knowledge far surpassed those of her year, so she would have graduated early. But still… And she'd been cheating on Harry! The man she'd sworn she loved. She'd been having an affair really with Draco Malfoy, the man who had slowly wormed his way into Harry's close-knit group of friends. Both Draco and Ginny had betrayed Harry. As she sat there, her mind whirling with thoughts and accusations, Malfoy merely watched her, having withdrawn his verbal talons and quieted the now awoken dragon he'd just unleashed at her. This was too unbelievable. Had she not gone over the reports thoroughly enough? Had she missed something? How could she have been this blind? Oh Gods, she was going to faint. Thankfully, though, she managed to keep from loosing consciousness and humiliating herself in front of Malfoy. But she couldn't stop the tear from sliding down her cheek.

Draco noticed it and looked away, not wanting to be moved by the woman's antics. He knew he'd shocked her. He'd meant to. But the truth had to come out sooner or later. He'd taken Ginny's virginity, and her heart all in one summer. And though his sexual "pureness" was long gone before Ginny, she'd taken his heart quickly, easily. And now Granger knew. He'd had to tell her, and he knew that if she got a hold of Harry today, he would soon know as well. The fact of the matter was; he didn't give a damn. He'd quit giving a damn the day they had lain Ginny in the ground. Physically he was strong, unbreakable, and perfect. Mentally, he was slowly crumbling. He had just needed to tell someone, and that someone happened to be Hermione Granger, Girl-Wonder where Potter, the git, had been Boy-Wonder. But no matter how much Draco thought, he couldn't remember life without being Potter's friend. It had only been the last two years of school, but they had grown close. So close Weasel had grown perturbed and violent, even once sworn to "Avada Kedavra his scrawny Snake ass if he so much as breathed a word of betrayal towards Harry." Draco had found it amusing at the time, but now… Now he found it merely a foreshadowing of his life. He had, in a sense, betrayed Harry and the others at the school telling his father during a round with the Cruciatus Curse, spilling all of what he had learned during the secret meetings of the Order, which he had joined the summer he got out of Fifth Year, which he was still apart of today. Even if it was only a ghost of what it had been. He was interrupted by Hermione shifting in her seat and shuffling papers.

"Well… It's nice to know that you let us down in more than one way, Malfoy." Came the whisper-soft reply Hermione shot in his direction. When he lifted his eyes to hers, he saw that the chocolate-light brown was gone, replaced by a sort of brown-gold mixture. The change was amazing. She'd gone from large-and-in-charge-professional to school-girl-quiet in five minutes. He was almost shocked at the transformation.

"Yes. Well…I suppose I had better be going. Just know that I have had nothing to do with these attacks. Though if you would like my help, I would be willing to give it." Draco responded softly as he stood gracefully, extending his right hand to her.

She stood and took it, however carefully, warily. "Yes. I'll inform the Minister." Hermione said softly, her eyes on their hands. There were small tingles emanating from the contact of skin-to-skin. The tingles were working their way up her arm to her spine and slowly moving towards her lower stomach. Quickly, she snatched her hand back and lifted her eyes to his to see if he had felt it as well. His face was blank, his eyes were some-what darker, though that could have been from the outburst. "Thank you for coming. And it was nice seeing you again, Draco." She murmured before sliding back to her seat and picking up another stack of papers. Her head being bowed, Hermione missed the smile that briefly touched Draco's lips before he turned and swept from the room, closing the door softly behind himself.

As he quickly left the Ministry, Draco flexed his hand into a fist. That had been… odd. She had felt it too, that was for sure, the look on her face had been delectable; she had looked amazed, shocked, and then amusingly flustered with herself. Of course, he hadn't let her see what he had been feeling. He'd been trained young to not show emotion. Especially to those "below" himself. Though, she wasn't quite below him anymore. No, she had a steady job and a life. Whereas he had a fortune and he worked when he felt like it. Being the head to a prominent Wizarding law firm, which he had inherited from his father, had its pluses. Unfortunately, it didn't leave much time for a social life. Or much of a life at all.

Which wasn't really the problem; He had his share of women. And he was quite pleased with them, if he had to be honest. But always, if he felt they were getting too close, he would break it off. It always ended on good terms. No one left mad. He paid them well, really. The last one had received two hundred Galleons and a sapphire necklace. She had walked away happy and to this day, they were still friends. That had been two months ago. Perhaps that's what that had been. Just sexual tension. "No sex for a few months is going to send any man over the edge." He muttered to himself, earning himself a rather uneasy, yet hopeful, look from a nearby witch. Draco noticed and shot her a glare, shaking his head. "Women… And they claim that we're the sex crazed ones." He said bleakly before Apparating. When he reappeared in the manor, he looked around disgustedly at the dingy and frayed tapestries, the soot-covered walls and marble floors. Floors and walls that at one point had shone with vigor. Now, the entire house was in shambles, causing it's inhibitor to slowly follow suit.

Silently, he moved into the room that had once been his father's study and office. While the old man had owned it, the room had been decorated with the silver, green and black of Slytherins. However, Draco had changed the room to suit his fancy. The room was now done in black, blood red, silver and gold. It fit him. Fit his moods. Though the room was undergoing continual changes. And, for as much time as Draco spent here, he figured he might as well conjure a bed and the kitchen in here as well and he'd be set.

He smiled faintly at the thought before sitting, pouring himself a brandy, (the kind of Muggle alcohol Harry had gotten him obsessed with.) and relaxing as he sat, staring into the fire and wondering what Granger would be doing when she went home.


	4. Dreams and Burns

A/N: Tank ya, Emily! Mucho thanks! I thought it was a sick twist of plot thoughts, but my sister gave me the idea. Annnd, I'm going to be gone for a week, so this is the last chapter for a week. It's rather short because I had inspiration at 12:30 and just typed until 1. So here you are!

Warnings: I'm going to start putting these on every chapter and rating each chapter. Chapter ratings will be in bold. This chapter is going to contain….Language, hints at child abuse, mental, physical, and emotional.

Disclaimer: With the exception of my own charries and ideals, the general Ideal for HP belongs to the wonderful woman named JK Rowling.

Chapter Four: Dreams and Burns

He had fallen asleep beside the fire, once again. Brandy snifter had rolled beneath the couch on the other side of the room; blonde hair was tousled from sleep. Once again, he caught up in the insanity called Dreams. One he had seen often before. Too often for his pleasure, but he could not pull himself from the pulling, dragging dream….

----

_Laughter flitted up to his ears as he stood at the top of the Grand Staircase of Hogwarts. Lunch had just let out and students were pouring from the Great Hall. As Head Boy, he had hall monitoring duty this afternoon, not a particularly enjoyable job, but it got him out of that shared common room with Granger and into the flow of students. _

_ As he stood there, a flash of auburn caught Draco's attention and he turned quickly, grinning as he saw the door to an empty classroom close. He knew who it was… Now to get away; easier said than done at this school. Then again…Draco grinned and hurried from his post to the door, knocking once then slipping inside. Immediately, he was pulled into a hug, he could feel her lips pressed to his neck, her hands were fisted in the back of his school robes.   
"Easy, Blaze, we have a while yet until the bell for class rings." He spoke against her hair, his own hands snaking around the small waist to pull the girl closer. Draco could feel her tremble slightly at the contact and her grip on him eased a little. He smiled and pulled away slightly to stare down into endless cornflower blue eyes. Eyes he knew would glaze over with passion if he grazed his lips against her jaw; eyes he knew would darken to a deep blue when she was angry with him; and eyes that could go violet when she was happy._

_"I hate sneaking, Draco. You know I do." She said softly as she lifted her small hand and traced the outline of his lips with one slim finger. _

_He shifted his head to kiss her finger before nipping lightly at it. "You have to tell Harry soon, Blaze." He murmured against her finger, keeping his eyes on hers.  
She nodded, auburn curls bouncing. "I know. Tomorrow, I promise." She paused for a moment and stared up at him. "Do you know when your next meeting is?" she questioned softly._

_"Dammit, Ginny!" He yanked away and moved across the room. He hated when she brought that up. "I don't know when the next meeting is! You know that! He just…" by now, Draco was struggling to keep his voice calm, trying to keep quiet. _

_She winced and nodded, moving slowly after him. "I'm sorry. You're right. I had no right…" before she could continue, Draco caught her by the back of the head and brought his mouth down hard on hers. _

_He felt her arms wind themselves around his neck, her body go soft and pliant. He heard the moan that emanated from the back of her throat. As he lifted his head, Ginny gave a soft mewl and opened her eyes. His eyes moved to her hair, his fingers combed through the locks. "Fire and gold." He whispered softly before smiling a little and kissing her forehead. "Fire and gold…"_

_----_

Draco awoke with those words on his lips. Awoke sharply to someone shaking him and calling his name; the voice was irritated, yet worried.

"Draco! Dammit, Drake, open your damned eyes and look at me. Have you been drinking that Muggle shit again?" the voice was pure Blaise Zabini. And the Voice was pissing Draco off.

"Shove off you lump of dragon dung." He muttered, throwing an arm over his stinging eyes. Gods… His head was throbbing, his body ached. Harry had warned him about drinking too much of the Muggle alcohol. He didn't care. He wanted Ginny. He wanted their baby.

"You floundering idiot!" Blaise exclaimed, grabbing his friend by the lapels and hauling him from the chair. "You're bloody blasted, you are! Don't know why you drink that shit anyways. Fire Whiskey is the only way to go. Russian Vodka works pretty well too." Blaise thought a moment before shaking his dark head and pulling his life long friend to the door and up the stairs.

They'd been friends for years, since birth really. Their fathers, Lucius Malfoy and Enrico Zabini, had insisted that the two infants be introduced, both barely four hours from the womb. The same birthdays were not the only things that brought the boys closer. Over time, at young ages, both had noticed how controlling and demanding their older counterparts were. Lucius was physically and mentally abusive; while Enrico was emotionally and mentally abusive. In times of need, Draco and Blaise had leaned against each other, using the others strength as their own. Together, both had overcome the hardships of adolescence, and rejoiced as their fathers were taken down during the summer following their fifth years.

Blaise was the first person Draco went to when he discovered just how deep his feelings for Ginerva, a.k.a Ginny Weasley went. And in return, Draco was the first person Blaise went to when he discovered he was infatuated with Padma Patil. Both had worked through the situations. Both had fallen for girls outside of their own houses at the same time, both had defied their elders. Both had done everything for the women they loved. Both had lost them shortly before leaving school. But Blaise had a reminder of the woman he loved; whereas Draco had nothing.

As the men started up the stairs unsteadily, Draco laid his head on Blaise's shoulder and sighed quietly staring blankly at their feet as they walked before lifting his head and frowning up at the dark-hair man who was supporting him. "I had that dream again, 'Laise." Draco said softly, frowning.

"The one where she asked you about the last meeting?" Blaise asked just as softly, not looking at his friend.  
Draco nodded. "Yeah. That's the one." He muttered, laying his head back down. "'Laise?"  
"Hmn?" the off handed sound sounded slightly agitated.  
"Before I fell asleep last night, I went through Lucius' book collection. There's one missing. _The Wizard's Guide to the Dark Arts_."   
Blaise didn't say anything for a few moments but, once they'd reached the bathroom door, he looked at Draco and frowned. "You checked everywhere?" at his friend's nod, his frown deepened.

"It's been gone a while. There's dust in the slot where it used to be."  
"Interesting…" Blaise said quietly, shifting Draco carefully then reaching into the shower and turning it on. "Think you can do this by yourself, you indolent crack?" he asked teasingly, releasing Draco's shoulders. "I have to pick Gareth up from Pansy's. I'll bring him back around in a few minutes, got it under control?" With another nod, Blaise smiled faintly, touched Draco's shoulder lightly then Disapparated.

Draco dragged off his robes and the cloths he'd pulled on to go to that damned meeting. As he stepped under the hot spray of the shower, Draco groaned, closed his eyes and leaned against the shower wall. That woman. Granger. She was going to be the death of him. It was that or he was going to strangle her for talking so incessantly. Either way, one of them was going to be happy; Or miserable and in Azkaban. That got him to snort back laughter as he tilted his head back, letting the water hit him squarely in the face. As the water hit, something in his arm burned. It lasted only a moment, so Draco figured it was just a muscle spasm. Five minutes into the shower, it did it again, stronger this time. More insistent. Draco winced and looked down at his right arm and paled. It was back. Faintly, but the damned burnt image was there.

Stumbling from the shower, he rushed over to the mirror, swiped at it with a towel and shifted so he could look at his arm. "Oh Merlin… No." He'd been given the mark his sixth year. He'd taken it like a man and hadn't so much as whimpered. Later, after the brutal beating the other Deatheaters had subjected him to, after the promise of that was only the beginning if he ever betrayed them, he had collapsed into Ginny's welcoming arms. In the beginning she was wary of him, she was careful about what she said around him. Soon though, she relaxed and let him in, she began trusting him fully again, and that had been the greatest gift he'd ever received.

In the end, he did, and, in the end, the Mark, that horrible stain of Skull and Snake had gone away. Now it was back. But Voldemort was fallen. What was it? Was Blaise feeling it? Who was it? Were any of the others seeing what he was? Pansy? Millie? Crabbe? Oh Gods, he had to get in touch with Hermione again. And fast.


	5. A Tribute

**A Tribute to Those Gone—By Joseph Morse**

_A/N: I know, I'm not my brother. This chapter was the last chapter Nick wrote before he passed away a little over two weeks ago, August 29th, 2004, from respiratory complication (Asthma for those of you who knew him well). He was sixteen. He asked me to finish the story, and I plan to do it. In honor of my youngest brother, here is the fifth chapter to his story.  
Nick, we love you and miss you terribly. You will forever be in our hearts, kiddo. _

Hermione sat curled in a large overstuffed chair in her London flat, a large leather bound album in her lap. As she stared, misty-eyed and sniffling at the pages, she remembered better days; Days where they were all happy. But it was hard to do when, in half the pictures, Draco had his arm around Ginny. To anyone who didn't know what she knew, it would have looked friendly; but to Hermione, the pose reeked of betrayal and death.

With a strangled sob, she closed the large book with a snap and pushed it to the floor. She had left work early to take a personal day. Draco Malfoy's visit had rocked her to the depths of her soul. All of the notorious Gryffindor pride and bravery fled the instant he strode from her office in a swirl of black and silver cloak. She was to the point where she was more than tempted to find Malfoy Manor, go there, demand to see Malfoy, then give him a piece of her mind. Only problem was: she would probably kill him should she see him again. Great. So that left sitting here and wallowing in memories and pain. Not much of a choice if you asked her.

Ah well, her flat-mates would be back shortly and she could forget everything then; Loose herself in the mindless girly chatter and high-pitched giggles. Then again... maybe not. Frowning, Hermione stood, disrupting a very disgruntled Koen from his spot on the arm of the chair. The black and white cat hissed at her before settling back into his spot and promptly falling back to sleep. Hermione stopped for a moment to regard the large tom-cat sitting on her chair.

He had been a replacement for Crookshanks, who had, sadly, disappeared during the war. Ron had gotten Koen for her as a gift to try and console her. It hadn't been the same, but it had been a comfort; especially after Ron's death.

Shaking the thoughts from her weary mind, Hermione made her way into the bathroom, locked the door then meticulously set wards around the room to keep her flat-mates out. It wasn't that she didn't like the other three girls, but they were a little too... flighty for her comfort. Hermione knew only one of them; Lavender Brown had approached Hermione only shortly after graduation and asked whether or not Hermione would like to share a flat with two other girls, both from America, and herself. Hermione had answered quickly, knowing that she would need the comfort of the others. But now, as she shed her clothing, she was seriously re-thinking her choice.

As she slid into magically filled tub, she sighed with content, her head lolling back against the backside of the tub.

_(Unfortunately, this is where my brother's part of chapter 5 ends. I'll post my half in another section. It will be labeled "Tribute- Part 2_

_Joe _

_To those of you who have story suggestions, please, feel free to e-mail me at __. Thank you to everyone who has ever reviewed this story, I'm sure my brother was grateful.) _


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